By ten-thirty, the mobile phone had arrived at the station inside an evidence bag.
It was cheap, black, and almost featureless.
Helen stared at it through the plastic.
Something about its ordinariness disturbed her. She had expected an object connected to threats to look sinister. Instead, it resembled something sold beside prepaid cards at a convenience store.
Detective Pierce had brought in two additional investigators.
One was Detective Lena Cho, a compact woman with rimless glasses who specialized in financial crimes. The other, Sergeant Warren Bell, supervised the operation involving Marcus.
Pierce explained the possibility of an internal leak without naming any suspected officer.
Bell’s expression became guarded.
“Ray bragging about a corrupt cop isn’t proof.”
“No,” Pierce said. “But the timing is enough to restrict information.”
Helen listened from the corner.
Dylan sat at the table.
The phone lay in front of him.
“Do I answer when it rings?” he asked.
Bell nodded.
“We record. Keep it natural. Don’t promise anything we haven’t discussed.”
“What if he asks where I am?”
“Say you’re handling things.”
Dylan laughed nervously.
“That sounds like me.”
Helen almost smiled.
The phone rang.
Every person in the room became still.
Dylan looked at Helen.
She gave him no instruction.
This choice belonged to him.
He picked up.
“Yeah?”
Marcus answered loudly enough that Helen could hear the murmur but not the words.
Dylan leaned forward.
“I got it.”
Pause.
“No, Ray didn’t.”
Another pause.
Dylan’s face tightened.
“I don’t know where Ray is.”
Marcus said something.
Dylan glanced at Pierce.
“I’m at home.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed.
It was the agreed lie.
Marcus responded.
Dylan’s expression changed.
“What?”
Silence.
Then Marcus laughed faintly through the speaker.
Dylan looked at Pierce.
“No, she’s here.”
Helen felt Robert stiffen beside her.
Marcus continued.
Dylan’s eyes moved toward Helen’s bruised cheek.
“How do you know that?”
Pierce wrote something on a pad and slid it toward him.
KEEP TALKING.
Dylan swallowed.
“You’re full of it.”
Marcus answered.
Dylan’s face drained.
“No.”
Pierce wrote again.
WHAT DID HE SAY?
Dylan covered the receiver.
“He said Mom’s wearing a green sweater.”
Helen looked down.
Green.
She had changed into it before leaving home.
Robert stood.
“How could he know that?”
Pierce motioned for silence.
Dylan returned to the call.
“You watching the house?”
Marcus answered.
Dylan’s eyes narrowed.
“No, you’re not.”
Another pause.
Then Marcus said something longer.
Dylan stared at Pierce.
“When?”
He listened.
“Fine.”
Marcus spoke again.
The line disconnected.
Dylan slowly lowered the phone.
“What did he say?” Helen asked.
Dylan looked at her.
“He said somebody saw you arrive here.”
Robert turned toward the door.
“At the station?”
“Yes.”
Pierce was already speaking into his radio.
“Lock down information on this room. No location transmissions.”
Bell frowned.
“Alan.”
Pierce looked at him.
“Somebody told Marcus Helen is wearing green.”
Bell’s face hardened.
Helen felt exposed despite four walls and armed officers.
“Who saw us arrive?”
Pierce asked.
“Anyone outside. Staff. People in the lobby. Someone driving past.”
Robert said, “Or whoever Ray was paying.”
No one disagreed.
Dylan rubbed his forehead.
“He wants the money at noon.”
“What money?” Bell asked.
“The thirty-eight hundred.”
“And where?”
Dylan hesitated.
“Mom’s house.”
Helen laughed once.
“Of course.”
Bell shook his head.
“We don’t use the residence.”
Dylan looked at him.
“He said if I change the location, he walks.”
“Then he walks.”
“He also said if police are there, he’ll know.”
Helen studied Dylan.
“How?”
“He didn’t say.”
Pierce asked, “Did he mention Ray?”
“He said Ray is unavailable.”
“That could mean he knows Ray was arrested.”
“It means exactly that,” Dylan said.
Bell paced once.
“Ray’s detention would be visible to anyone near the house.”
Pierce nodded.
“But Helen’s sweater isn’t.”
The room went quiet again.
Detective Cho, who had barely spoken, looked at Helen.
“Mrs. Parker, when did you put that sweater on?”
“Before Robert and I left for the station.”
“Was anyone at the house then besides police?”
Helen thought.
Officers.
Dylan.
Robert.
Herself.
“No.”
Cho turned to Pierce.
“Body cameras.”
Pierce frowned.
“What?”
“If an officer’s body-camera footage uploaded automatically, someone with access could view it.”
Bell shook his head.
“Not this quickly.”
“Could a live feed be accessed?”
“Supervisors can access certain systems.”
Helen watched the officers exchange looks.
She did not like any of them.
Robert asked, “How many people?”
Bell answered reluctantly.
“More than I’d like.”
Dylan stared at the phone.
“Ray wasn’t lying.”
Pierce said, “We don’t know that yet.”
Helen looked at him.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because uncertainty matters.”
“So does pattern.”
Pierce met her eyes.
“Yes.”
Detective Cho shifted the conversation.
“While they work on Marcus, I need to speak with you about the loan.”
Helen nodded.
Cho opened a laptop.
“The lender Dylan used is legitimate. The application was fraudulent, but the company itself appears real.”
Dylan looked ashamed.
“Did he use my information anywhere else?”
“We’re checking.”
Helen looked at her son.
He answered before Cho could.
“No.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“Think before you answer.”
“I did.”
Helen held his gaze.
“All right.”
Cho continued.
“There is another account, however.”
Helen’s stomach tightened.
“In my name?”
“No. Dylan’s.”
He looked up.
Cho turned the screen.
Transactions appeared in columns.
“Dylan, do you recognize these?”
He leaned closer.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Payment app.”
“There are deposits from multiple individuals.”
Dylan’s face changed.
“The referrals.”
Cho nodded.
“And withdrawals shortly afterward.”
“To Ray.”
“Some.”
Dylan frowned.
“What do you mean, some?”
Cho pointed.
“These went elsewhere.”
Dylan stared at the screen.
Robert moved behind him.
“Who is C. Wallace?”
Dylan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Cho looked at him.
“You transferred more than four thousand dollars to an account registered to Christopher Wallace over seven months.”
Dylan’s mouth opened.
Then recognition arrived.
“Oh.”
“Who is he?”
Dylan looked at Pierce.
“I never knew his real name.”
“What did you call him?”
“Chris.”
Pierce’s expression sharpened.
“What did Chris do?”
“He handled things for Ray.”
“What things?”
“Numbers. Messages. Sometimes he told us where to meet.”
Bell stepped closer.
“Describe him.”
Dylan did.
Mid-forties.
Heavy build.
Short brown hair.
Usually clean-shaven.
A pale scar near the right ear.
Helen watched Sergeant Bell become completely motionless.
Pierce noticed too.
“Warren?”
Bell did not answer immediately.
“Who is it?” Pierce asked.
Bell looked at Dylan.
“You sure about the scar?”
“Yes.”
Bell’s jaw tightened.
“Christopher Wallace was a patrol officer here.”
Helen felt cold.
Robert stared.
“Was?”
Bell nodded.
“He resigned eighteen months ago.”
Pierce asked, “Why?”
“Internal investigation.”
“For corruption?”
Bell hesitated.
“Evidence handling irregularities.”
Dylan stared at him.
“He was a cop?”
“Former.”
“Ray said he still had people.”
Bell looked at Pierce.
“If Wallace has access through old relationships, that explains some things.”
“Not Helen’s sweater.”
“No.”
Pierce’s phone buzzed.
He read the screen.
His expression hardened.
“What?” Helen asked.
He turned the phone toward Bell.
A system access log.
Someone had opened Officer Ramirez’s body-camera stream less than an hour earlier.
Bell stared at the username.
Helen watched recognition move across his face.
“Who?” Robert demanded.
Bell looked toward the closed door.
Then back at Pierce.
“Lieutenant Samuel Grady.”
Pierce’s expression became unreadable.
Helen asked, “Who is that?”
Bell answered.
“My commanding officer.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: The Name Inside the Police System Forced Pierce to Change the Operation, While Dylan Learned Cooperation Could Not Purchase Forgiveness
The Night My Son Raised His Hand, I Finally Understood What All My Years of Protecting Him Had Created
Part 10 of 27
